Of those most unmelodious volumes,
Intently as if there and then
He conned the fate of gods and men.
Methought that brow so full and fair
Was formed the poet’s wreath to wear;
And as those eyes of azure hue,
One moment lifted, met my view,
Gay worlds of starry thoughts appeared
In their blue depths serenely sphered.
Just then the voice of one unseen,